*Buried deep within teenage romance
And wit and strife and philosophical musings and --*
He'd nudged my foot,
His face is a gorgeous grin over these pages.
I glance back to them.
*The love interest rose up now
Handsome and beautiful
Charming, clever, humorous, and deep
(But did he have to be oh so middle class American??
And did she? Or I, first person as it is?) --*
He's started to stroke my toes now,
Gently, just how I like it.
I'm not kidding when I say
"If you touch my feet I'll fall in love with you"
It's almost instantaneous.
*A heroic act of selfless love:
Amsterdam snows confetti
Virginities are lost or traded or gifted
Heroes are demoted --*
He kisses my head now,
My cheek, my temple
Interrupts with a story,
Hilarious I am sure
"What was that? Sorry, I'm distracted"
I giggle
Engrossed in the 'other land'
*Love blooms on the wings of angels
(And all those other cliches)
He is perfect, yet flawed, as they all are.
As we all are.
They click and rebound and discuss
They laugh, they cry:
They try to fill a part of themselves with
The Other --*
I glance up, spying on my own lover
His soft glance on the laptop
Beautiful lips
Gorgeous style
Our own joking, rebounding, enthused exchanges.
Our own supporting, caring, deep meaningfuls.
And I'm not jealous. Not of them. Or anyone. Not one bit.
*Yet tragedy is ever present!
And our handsome and perfect lover
Is tossed into Oblivion:
Or to a Something's Somewhere --*
"He's dying!" I cry to beautiful brown eyes
Framed with long wavy black.
The darkness holds amusement and affection.
*Their perfect and tragic love is ever more so
For its fleeting 'forever'
Its lessened 'infinity':
Beautiful and fragile --*
His arms are around me tight
Why am I affected so?
Too easily invested?
But it's not that.
The emotions are too close.
It had been described so well.
Loss.
So accurate.
And these feelings not completely healed
- But healing. Slowly.
Time heals all wounds,
But maybe some are forgotten, sealed away
This one. This one slowly eases.
Some infinities are larger than others.
And his love surrounds me
As emotions leak from some deep place
Let out to the Universe
Hopefully to never return.
Jan 10, 2015
Jan 10, 2015 at 10:37 PM UTC
*Buried deep within teenage romance
And wit and strife and philosophical musings and --*
He'd nudged my foot,
His face is a gorgeous grin over these pages.
I glance back to them.
*The love interest rose up now
Handsome and beautiful
Charming, clever, humorous, and deep
(But did he have to be oh so middle class American??
And did she? Or I, first person as it is?) --*
He's started to stroke my toes now,
Gently, just how I like it.
I'm not kidding when I say
"If you touch my feet I'll fall in love with you"
It's almost instantaneous.
*A heroic act of selfless love:
Amsterdam snows confetti
Virginities are lost or traded or gifted
Heroes are demoted --*
He kisses my head now,
My cheek, my temple
Interrupts with a story,
Hilarious I am sure
"What was that? Sorry, I'm distracted"
I giggle
Engrossed in the 'other land'
*Love blooms on the wings of angels
(And all those other cliches)
He is perfect, yet flawed, as they all are.
As we all are.
They click and rebound and discuss
They laugh, they cry:
They try to fill a part of themselves with
The Other --*
I glance up, spying on my own lover
His soft glance on the laptop
Beautiful lips
Gorgeous style
Our own joking, rebounding, enthused exchanges.
Our own supporting, caring, deep meaningfuls.
And I'm not jealous. Not of them. Or anyone. Not one bit.
*Yet tragedy is ever present!
And our handsome and perfect lover
Is tossed into Oblivion:
Or to a Something's Somewhere --*
"He's dying!" I cry to beautiful brown eyes
Framed with long wavy black.
The darkness holds amusement and affection.
*Their perfect and tragic love is ever more so
For its fleeting 'forever'
Its lessened 'infinity':
Beautiful and fragile --*
His arms are around me tight
Why am I affected so?
Too easily invested?
But it's not that.
The emotions are too close.
It had been described so well.
Loss.
So accurate.
And these feelings not completely healed
- But healing. Slowly.
Time heals all wounds,
But maybe some are forgotten, sealed away
This one. This one slowly eases.
Some infinities are larger than others.
And his love surrounds me
As emotions leak from some deep place
Let out to the Universe
Hopefully to never return.
Referenced and spoilered: 'The Fault in our Stars' by John Green. A marvelous novel. John Green sure knows how to capture grief. Just like in 'Looking for Alaska'. Luckily I read that one Before.